Two is Company
by Fjordly
Summary: Peter Pettigrew is convicted for his crimes and so Sirius Black is cleared of all charges. Now a free man, his godson, Harry Potter, may live with him and have a place truly call his home. It seems that there is hope afterall... As seen in Pettigrew's case, not all Gryffindors are good, it can also be said (like Harry and co will discover) that not all Slytherins are bad.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This chapter is very, very short, but it serves as a pilot of sorts. Please enjoy!

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Despite the comfort of his newfound freedom, he did not sleep. Sirius Black sat up in his bed in 12 Grimmauld Place. Thirteen years of sleeping on the cold floor of his cell in Azkaban left his body in a seemingly permanent discomfort and his mind in a state even worse.

He released a heaving sigh, propping himself up against his pillows. The sight of Peter being dragged away, kicking and screaming as he fought desperately to evade his fate, still lingered in the shallows of his mind. The Marauders were now down to two. No... They were down to two a long time ago – when James had died and Peter was revealed as the traitor.

Sirius's face flashed anger; anger he had been harbouring for most of his life; fuelled by the various atrocities he had been exposed to over the course of his 34 years. It was an anger, though, that the Dementors of Azkaban had turned into cold misery and despair.

Another sigh escaped his lungs. Forming a sort of exasperated half-smile, he slid his legs off his bed and slowly got up in silence. Slipping on his night robe, he considered his room. Various posters and banners sporting golden lions, motor cycles, and ladies clad in mere strips of cloth adorned the walls in their decrepit state. Dust covered every surface, and the curtains had become meals for the resident moths. Evidently, and not surprisingly at all, Kreacher had neglected the house in Sirius's absence.

'This damn old place needs a cleaning up.' He sighed to himself.

Sirius often wondered why any member of the ancient and most noble House of Black would want to take residence in a place like 12 Grimmauld place. It was, utterly and truly, grim. Sirius was sure, though, that if any, that was the most likelt of any reason.

After helping himself to a simple glass of water, he spent a long while simply ambling through the dark planked corridors, stopping finally at a door on the second floor. He turned the knob and pushed the door open with a gentle touch. He gazed with mixed emotions at the slight figure that lay resting in the large bed that seemed to dwarf it's occupant even more. Sirius did not dare enter the room, lest he wake the boy. Not knowing his sleeping patterns, or anything really, he would best be cautious.

He sighed again, closing the door with a small click.

No, this was certainly no place to care for his dear James's son.

Elsewhere another being had trouble sleeping. Instead of the calming effect it had on most, the gentle sound of the lake water lapping against the windows of the Slytherin dorm only served to assist in depriving Jonathan Smith of sleep. He sat there, head on one hand, wand in the other, regarding the otherwise empty room with a cold blue gaze.

The summer holidays had finally come and left Jonathan stranded at Hogwarts once more. He knew, of course, that another student had often stayed at school during holidays, Harry Potter, but with recent events, this was no longer the case. He did not complain, though. The solitude was comforting for a while. The only other residents were the groundskeeper, house elves, the occasional professor, and, as always, the castle ghosts. These were all easily ignored, and as long as he didn't cause any trouble or venture off the grounds, he was mostly free to do as he pleased. And despite various possible sources of entertainment, the library for example, being locked up, he was free to do magic – unlike almost all other students located elsewhere.

For these various reasons, Jonathan Smith would claim that he was content.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hi there! Thanks for all the favorites and follows; they are much appreciated! And thank you, guys, for your patience. This chapter is longer, but still shorter than I'd like, but I promise, chapters will be getting longer as things develop. Also, I will try my best to release a new chapter every Monday. Enjoy!

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The sun had already reached its zenith, but 12 Grimmauld Place was silent for the most. Sirius had already risen and sat quiet in an ornate mahogany armchair lined with green cushions. He figited with the crystal tumbler in his hand, but he did not drink the fiery liquid within. Kreacher was most likely tending to his mistress or stuffed away in his nest.

The grandfather clock ticked on, and soon it wound up and chimed heralding the hour after midday. Harry had not yet emerged from his room, and Sirius was unsure whether or not he should be worried. Harry, on the other hand, had indeed already risen, and he in turn was unsure whether he should come out of his room or not. Despite having spent quite a bit of time at the Burrow, he was at a loss for how these things were supposed to work. That and he was, to his own surprise, anxious.

He had already dressed into jeans and a shirt from his trunk that lay open next to the large bed. Harry had arrived with his godfather the afternoon before, and he was yet to unpack his clothes and few personal belongings.

He was sitting upright on the bed, which was now made up, with his hands in his lap, when he heard the light knock on the door.

'Harry?' Sirius's disembodied voice followed.

'Oh, uh, come in.'

Harry turned his gaze to the door as it opened and Sirius took a step inside. It looked as if he was unsure what to do with his hands, so instead he tried a smile. It came easier than he expected and it was genuine. Harry beamed at his godfather. Nothing was said, but in the silence there was an understanding.

Sirius summoned Harry to him with a long elegant finger and a twinkle in his eyes. Harry scrambled off his covers and quickly made his way to the door and into Sirius's outstretched arms.

'My boy...' Sirius sighed.

For the next hour or so, godfather and godson busied themselves with packing the latter's belongings out of his trunk. They did so mostly in silence, but Sirius would occasionally remark on how small Harry is in comparison to his hand-me-down clothes or how he was in serious need of a haircut. Harry, on the other hand, would deny both.

'Is that everything?' Sirius inquired while neatly placing the last of Harry's books and tomes into an ornate bookshelf.

'I think so.'

'Do you have anything at your muggle family's home?'

Harry screwed up his face in thought for a moment.

'Uh... Not that I know of.' He told the pair of shoes in his hands. 'Nothing important, anyway.'

Sirius nodded.

'Well, Harry. You shouldn't get too comfortable here.'

Harry looked at Sirius in alarm. His godfather's face was cold and stiff.

He held it that was for a full ten seconds, and then, to Haary's slight surprise, started laughing a loud barking laugh.

'Oh Harry! If you could only see your face.' He winked at the boy who seemed slightly confused if anything. 'What I mean to say is that I don't plan on us staying in this old dump for too long.'

Relief was now evident on Harry's face, yet his laugh was still a small, nervous one. Sirius smiled warmly and embraced the small frame once again.

'Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry that I could not have taken care of you sooner.'

'It's alright, Sirius. Really.'

'No, my boy, it's not. Those muggles dealt you some serious damage, I've heard. I intend to fix that.'

'You really don't have to worry about that. I'm fine.'

Sirius opened his mouth to speak.

'But thank you, Sirius.'

He smiled, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders.

'Well then. I think the first thing we should do is fatten you up a bit. Whatever those muggles fed you couldn't have been good for you, and I would hope that the food at Hogwarts would have done a better job.'

'Oh, no. The food at school is great. I just don't get hungry so much...'

Sirius eyed Harry suspiciously.

'Are you sure that you are James Potter's son? The man ate like a pig when he had the chance.'

Harry smiled sheepishly.

'As for your mother... You probably inherited her appetite along with those eyes of yours.'

'Probably.' Harry echoed.

Then again a brief silence.

Sirius smiled.

'Come now, you must be starved.'

Sirius slapped Harry on the back and put his arm around his shoulders, leading him off to the kitchen.

'Shall I prepare the masters a meal? Perhaps a poisoned rump? Or something more easy to choke on?' was what prompted Sirius to cook himself. He knew, of course, that Kreacher would never follow through on his threats, but he did not trust him either way.

'I hope you like your sausages, uh... Well done.' Was what prompted Sirius to take Harry out for lunch instead. Some fresh air couldn't hurt, now could it?

The place was a diner in muggle London.

'I've always liked muggle eateries.' Explained Sirius. 'Probably to spite my parents.'

'Why would you do that?'Harry asked as he smothered his chips in tomato sauce.

Sirius hesitated for a moment before looking Harry in the eye.

'My family... Well, it's complicated.'

'Were they in league with Voldemort?'

Sirius's face flashed surprise for a moment, but not enough to be of any remarkableness.

'Not exactly. Or rather, not all of them. You see, my family believes strongly in blood purity and of course they practice the dark arts. My parents were appalled when I wasn't put in Slytherin.'

'But they didn't...' Harry's question hung.

'My parents sympathized with him, and some of the family did become Death Eaters, yes. My cousin, Bellatrix, for instance.'

Sirius's eyes drifted off deeper into his thoughts. There was a pained expression on his weathered, but still handsome, face.

'My father loved Bellatrix, maybe even more than he loved my brother...'

'I'm sorry, Sirius.'

'No, Harry.' Sirius smiled. 'There is nothing to be sorry about. I won't help us now, anyway.'

Sirius took a immense chunk out of his cheeseburger - a muggle meal which, to him, trumped almost any other meal that the magical world could offer. Harry had ordered the same, but where Sirius was sipping on a cup of coffee as black as his family name, Harry was slurping on a chocolate milkshake.

'Sirius?'

'Yes, Harry?'

'There has to be a way...' Jonathan said to himself in reference to the sudden onset of boredom which plagued him.

Boredom would often come and go, but the latest occurrence seemed worse than the usual. In a spell of arrogance, Jonathan had believed himself to be above such things. Obviously he was wrong.

'Damn...'

He spent the rest of the day ambling down the stone hallways, passing the library five times in total; each time glaring at it accusingly.

'There has to be a way...'


End file.
